Page 25 of To Catch a Thief

“So this might be three or four weeks?”

The doctor nodded.

Her plan to turn down Abby’s job offer faded like the final note in a sad song. If she took the bartending job, she could spend the day with her mother and then head to work.

She didn’t have to like it. She just had to make money. Because a long hospital stay was going to hurt—financially.

CHAPTER FIVE

“I’M BORED,” CAROLINA’S mother complained. “I hate it here.”

“I know, but staying in the hospital is for your safety.” Carolina tucked a black tank top into her black skirt. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Mamá closed her eyes. “I want to go home.”

She brushed a kiss on her mother’s fragile cheek. “Don’t you remember, you had another seizure this morning?”

And two last night. The neurologist was still trying to stabilize the dosage on her mother’s meds. It was already Thursday. Why couldn’t the doctors fix this?

“I don’t remember those…episodes.” Mamá refused to say “seizure.”

“It’s okay.” Carolina remembered for both of them. “I need to get to work. First night, remember?”

Her hands clenched into fists. She hated the idea of working for Abby, but she was counting on making great tips. Even after getting rid of her mother’s car lease, the credit card balances were staggering.

Mamá’s eyes went sly. “Bring me back something.”

“It’s a restaurant.” Carolina chose to misunderstand her. “Do you want a dessert or something else?”

The nursing staff had encouraged her to bring in treats, anything to get Mamá to eat.

“I want all the birds.” Rosa stroked the cardinal Carolina had brought to the hospital.

“Mamá.” She glanced around, but no one would understand what they were talking about. “I can’t.”

Her mother pouted. “I’m in the hospital.”

“I won’t be in the house,” Carolina whispered.

“But the restaurant’s on the property.” Her blue eyes drilled into Carolina’s. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you.” She glanced at the clock. “I have to go.”

At the nursing station, one of the nurses stamped her parking pass. At least she didn’t have that added expense.

As she headed to Southern Comforts, her body was as tight as a piano string. Every bump on the street made her vibrate. She hadn’t worked behind a bar in almost a year. Hopefully the customers wouldn’t ask for a cocktail she couldn’t make.

In the parking lot, Carolina wedged her small car between two SUVs. When she entered the restaurant’s kitchen door, it wasn’t quite three o’clock. A few people were in the kitchen, but it was a blonde woman who looked up and asked, “Can I help you?”

“I’m Carolina Castillo. The new bartender.”

“Cheryl Forester. Abby asked me to get you set up.” She held up dough-covered hands. “I’d shake your hand…”

Carolina waved. “No problem.”

“There are lockers in there for your stuff.” Cheryl nodded her head at a door. “I’ll be right with you.”

Each locker had a key that pulled out. Nice.

Cheryl came through the door and handed Carolina a black polo with a gold SC intertwined on the left-hand pocket. Carolina pulled it over her tank top.

“That fits.” Cheryl handed her another shirt. “And an extra.”

“Thanks.” Most places only gave employees one shirt. Abby Fitzgerald must have money to burn. Familiar resentment over the evil Fitzgeralds boiled inside her. And now she was helping them rake in more cash.

Carolina pushed back her bitterness. She needed this job.

Cheryl showed her where to clock in and they headed into the restaurant.

“Come meet Naomi,” Cheryl said. “She’ll train you.”

In the main room, a few diners occupied the tables. The large patio doors were open and soft music played in the background.

“Naomi.” Cheryl stopped at the bar. “Meet Carolina Castillo.”

“Thank goodness.” Naomi smiled, her teeth flashing against her beautiful deep brown skin. “Good to meet you.”

“You, too.” They shook hands.

“I’ve got to get back to the kitchen chain gang.” Cheryl waved. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Carolina frowned. Did Cheryl mean the “chain gang” remark? Was working for Abby going to be horrible?

Naomi stared. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”

Carolina swallowed. Did she look like a Fitzgerald? “I grew up on Tybee, but I’ve been living in Nashville.”

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